


The Way She Smiles

by notthewhizkid



Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Declaration of Love, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:20:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1389199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthewhizkid/pseuds/notthewhizkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin hadn't been this excited since winning a game of chess against Douglas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way She Smiles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deductions_of_a_Psychopath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deductions_of_a_Psychopath/gifts).



“I love you.”

“I…. Uh, well, I do. Yeah.” Breathe in, breathe out. “I love you, Molly.”

Martin scowled, hating how the words sounded on his lips. No, no, he berated himself. He liked the words. It was the way he said them that he hated, the way he sounded so unsure even when he _knew_.

He did. He loved Molly Hooper.

Opening his mouth to speak again, Martin paused to smooth down his hair. Why tonight? Why, of all the times it could have been unruly on a long trip or when he was stuck somewhere with someone like Douglas, why did it have to be like this tonight? Licking his palm and using that to smooth his hair back, Martin thought it at least looked agreeable.

“I love you, Molly Hooper,” he tried again, and this time he liked the way he said it enough that a satisfied, little grin made its way onto his face, quirking his lips up just a bit on one side. “I am completely and utterly in love with you.” Grinning more widely, Martin smoothed out the creases in his shirt, checked his teeth, and left his bathroom. After grabbing his coat, keys, and wallet (and checking his appearance one, two, three more times), Martin thought he was ready to go.

He couldn’t take his van, of course. There was no way he could pick up Molly, lovely as she was, in his van. She knew about it and his weekend job as the man with the van, but he made it a point never to pick her up in it. Martin thought it was unbefitting of the evenings they had together, and being the perfectionist he was, he always strived to be the best for her.

So, the Tube it was. Not extremely romantic either, but at least it was better than the van. Martin made sure to leave his flat with enough time to spare to get to a station, make a few changes, and then get to Molly’s.

Exact. It all had to be exact.

Or, close enough as he could get it. Martin never was very good at lining up the things he wanted most to actually do so. It’d been a trend his whole life, but tonight he was determined to at least get close.

Seven on the dot, Martin thought to himself, knocking on Molly’s door. Five raps, all in a small little rhythm that he and Molly did when visiting each other’s place. Just another reason to love her, Martin thought to himself, grinning and clasping his hands behind his back. She really was amazing, able to complement him in every way imaginable, even when he didn’t think someone possibly could.

“Oh, Martin,” he heard a small and slightly meek voice say. “You’re right on time, as always.” Martin looked up just as Molly giggled, the action itself a bit of a nervous habit, but oh, did she look beautiful. Martin had said that tonight was going to be special (or he hoped it would be), but he wasn’t expecting her to look so… well, breathtaking. Dressed in a royal blue gown that matched a clip in her hair, all pinned up for the night, away from her neck so it didn’t become a bother. “I need just a moment. I’ve just got to grab my purse, and I’ll be right out.” She disappeared again, coming back with a white bag and cardigan, pulling the latter on before locking the door to her flat and turning to offer a small smile to Martin.

It was one of those smiles that told Martin she was actually glad to see him. Not ‘I am going to tolerate another date and see where this goes.’ Not ‘this poor man looks like he could use a date tonight, so I might as well take pity on him.’ No, Martin thought. This was Molly Hooper’s sheepish and still utterly dazzling ‘I am going out tonight with Martin Crieff, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be’ smile.

Martin put out an arm for Molly to take, finding himself almost jittery. He knew speaking to women and just generally behaving near them wasn’t one of his strongest traits, but he really didn’t want to muck this up with Molly. She was, undoubtedly, the absolute most amazing thing that had ever come into his life, and he swore on his hat that he’d never let her go. “This way,” he guided, taking the first few steps with her, their pace awkward until they managed to find a middle speed that suited the two of them. “I really think you’ll like it.”

Molly looked up to Martin, lips pressed tightly together in habit but quirking up on one side, a small light in her eyes. “You haven’t even told me where we’re going,” she quipped, a light tone of amusement in her words. “It has to be good, considering you haven’t sounded this excited since you called me from Munich to say you won a game of chess against Douglas.”

Martin’s face flushed red enough to hide his freckles as Molly laughed again, but he found he didn’t mind. It was a bit embarrassing how excited he’d gotten then, but he just needed to share the victory with someone, and he had immediately thought of Molly. Really, most things he found himself wanting to share with her, even if they’d only been together a handful of months so far. “It’s a surprise, I told you,” Martin murmured, holding Molly’s arm a bit closer to himself, tugging her that small distance towards him. “I think you’ll like it. Or, I hope you will.”

They walked for a while, chatting and catching up on what they’d missed since the last time they’d seen each other in person about four days ago. Martin had flown twice, once to Rome and then once to Istanbul, both of which had been fairly uneventful considering their usual fiascos. Molly had gotten three new bodies at the morgue, trying to keep her gushing about them to a minimum because she knew normal people disliked that sort of thing, but Martin urged her again and again that it was alright. Everyone had what they loved, after all, whether it be flying or taking posthumous care of those who’d been killed.

After about ten minutes, the pair of them arrived outside a nicely lit up restaurant, one that was unassuming until someone happened to be standing in front of it. When peering into the windows, Martin could see the stereotypical fine-dining criteria of low lighting, spaced apart tables, and even a string quartet in the corner. He pulled Molly inside, grinning the entire way, obviously pleased with himself for even getting a reservation here.

“Crieff,” he said to the host, looking over to Molly and meeting her eye before the two of them were ushered to a table.

“Oh, god, here?” Molly asked in a hushed voice, following closely behind Martin. “This is too much, Martin. Really.”

“It’s fine,” Martin said, trying not to think about how much of a dent this would be in his savings account. It was for Molly, and he thought the first time he told her he loved her deserved something this special. Perhaps he’d get to do it again if they ever got engaged, he thought, very much enjoying the image his mind produced for that. Martin distracted himself by pulling out Molly’s chair for her, getting a tiny ‘thank you’ as she settled before he went around in his own seat, realizing that he was still grinning like a fool, trying to stop as the host gave them menus. “Pick whatever you want,” Martin said, opening up the menu and just barely containing his shock at the astronomical prices. He knew he paid for atmosphere in restaurants like this, but was the dim lighting and space around them really worth _this_ much?

“Oh,” Molly squeaked, looking over the menu with a frown. “I’m going to feel really terrible if you end up paying for any of this. I don’t see how…” Her eyes glanced over the page. “How can a baguette to share really cost twenty pounds? That’s ridiculous.” She looked up to Martin, worrying a bit at her lip. “You don’t have to pay for this, you know.”

Martin frowned, wringing his hands together under the table. He felt Molly’s feet briefly touch his, and he looked back to the menu he’d laid on the table. “I want to pay tonight, though,” he said, trying not to sound like he was whining. “We share so often, but I really want to treat you tonight. I want to do something nice for you, and I feel like I honestly never get the chance because money’s so tight and I’m always gone and-.” He made himself stop, taking a deep breath so he didn’t ramble anymore. “Look, I want to. I really want to make tonight special.”

By the time Martin finished speaking, Molly was grinning again, her eyes alight with a sort of humor only the captain across the table put there. “Come here,” she said, standing and going to his side of the table, reaching for one of his hands and pulling the man up. “I have a better idea.”

The pair of them left the restaurant, even with Martin’s complaints and his saying again and again that Molly was fine, that she could eat here and it would be alright. Still, even if it hurt his pride to see Molly changing the plans for the night, he had to admit that the weight off his empty wallet did feel nice. “Where are we going, then?” he found himself asking, squeezing Molly’s small hand in his own, trailing behind her this time.

“Surprise,” she returned as she glanced over her shoulder for a second before looking ahead again. Martin did love seeing Molly this way. At the beginning of the time he knew her, she was always mousy, but now she seemed more confident in herself, able to stand up for what she was saying and doing with no trouble. Molly was still quiet, but it was more a personality trait than nervousness now, and Martin thought it was quite possibly the most attractive thing about her, having seen her grow like that.

“Here we are,” Molly said a moment later, stopping almost too abruptly, causing Martin to barely catch himself before he stumbled into her.

Looking up, Martin saw nothing special. Just an average small restaurant, somewhere that he might go when he wanted cheap fish and chips. “Oh,” he murmured to himself, realizing that Molly had probably thought the same thing a few minutes prior. “Oh, you’re lovely,” he said, leaning down just a small bit and kissing her cheek, the first time that night. He walked her in, made a show of pulling out her chair for her again before on the side of the square table that was just beside her instead of across, feeling much lighter now that it the entire night was a game for the two of them. They did seem out of place, both dressed in nice outfits while in a fairly shoddy place, but neither of them seemed to care. Each of them did order fish and chips, grinning at each other like they’d shared some sort of joke even though it was just food. “You know, we could have stayed there. I wouldn’t have minded at all.” Martin was relieved all the same, and he knew Molly could see it.

“Yeah,” she said, taking a quick sip from her glass of water as they waited on food, “but this is better, don’t you think?”

Martin laughed, not caring if he sounded nervous or not nervous or anything because the woman across from him was just so amazing. “Molly Hooper, you’re a gem,” he told her, leaning over and kissing her cheek again, finding himself unable to stop from doing so. “I doubt any other woman would have been willing to leave a nice restaurant and come here for crappy fried food.”

The two of them had a nice laugh, leaning just close enough to each other that their knees were bumping a bit under the table. “You don’t have to think about the rest of the other women now, do you?” Molly teased back, a light dusting of red over her cheeks. Teasing wasn’t her forte, but she did enjoy it mostly because it made Martin just as flustered as it did herself. “Besides, you know I enjoy eating. I’d rather like what I’m getting than try to guess whatever the French title says my food may or may not be."

“God, I love you,” Martin found himself replying before he could silence his tongue. Oh, crap, he thought to himself. Sodding, buggering, god-awful crap. Tonight was supposed to be perfect, _perfect_ , and that had already been ruined by the change of dinner plans but been made better again when he and Molly were so much happier, but this was something he hadn’t wanted to compromise and mess with. This was a declaration of love, something monumental to him, and he hoped it was so for Molly as well.

All Martin could do was wait. He didn’t straighten back up in his chair, nor move his legs so their knees didn’t touch. It just seemed too quiet, too tense between them, even if nothing had happened yet. When he saw Molly move, Martin held his breath, hands tightly clasped under the table once more.

“So that’s what tonight’s been about?” Molly questioned, her voice strong despite still being a bit soft. “You wanted to tell me you love me, Martin?” When the captain looked up, he caught Molly’s eyes, seeing a fond look there. It was one of her notoriously hard to decipher looks, where Martin could be lost for days trying to figure it out. He knew he wasn’t the smartest or most clever man Molly Hooper knew, but he liked to think that he knew her well enough now to be able to understand her at least a bit. Judging by how difficult it was just to keep her gaze now, he wondered if that was the case.

“Yeah,” Martin finally replied, figuring he ought to answer her before she thought he was in some sort of shock. “Yeah. It was.” Martin tried to smile, but he knew it looked forced and anxious. “Is that alright?”

Molly waited two seconds before grinning, a different sort of light in her eyes as she scooted her chair just a bit closer to Martin’s. She said nothing as she leaned over to kiss him, pressing her lips to his in a way that still told Martin that there was nowhere else she would rather be than right here with him, even if it was in a tiny restaurant she’d pulled him to when the other had been too much.

Martin continued kissing Molly, not caring that she hadn’t returned the sentiment because he could _feel_ the way she meant it even without words. He loved every bit of her, and he was just glad that she knew that definitively now.

And for once, Martin thought as he brought a hand up to cup her cheek and get Molly impossibly closer, everything that had gone wrong that night still made it as close to perfect as he ever could have hoped for.


End file.
